Frozen Farm and a Confession

More fables from Fence Road, in winter's grip, hibernation and Ice Bowls.

I wrote in November that we were in the in-between times, that being in between fall and winter. But I recently learned that this period, January and February, have also been called the in-between times…because for a time those months did not exist.

Back in Roman times there wasn’t much people could do in this period, so they just didn’t count it. Their calendar was 10 lunar months ending in December and starting up again in March. Nature was dormant, so people might as well be too. Animals hibernate, why not people.

Imagine what it would be like not having to anything. Most people would go crazy, some might enjoy it. I might, as long as there was a decent supply of beer available. I mean I’m sure those Romans didn’t do nothing, they just weren’t required to do anything, except eat, drink, shit, fuck – basic human functions. Probably had to take care of livestock. And someone had to do the cooking.

Here at the farm, it suddenly feels like we’re in the throes of a cold, even frozen winter. Kinda snuck up on us. Sure, we had some cold snaps in December and a snowfall or two. But the first half of January was fairly mild, typical of the last couple of winters. Then we had the big dump – over a foot of the white stuff. I know it always feels colder with snow on the ground, but seriously the mercury plummeted and we won’t see above freezing for the next couple of weeks.

However, now that we have our Fence Road Farm Brewery open, we’re able to provide sustenance, comfort and entertainment as an alternative to hibernation. The restaurant’s rocking, the taps are flowing with a great range of beers and mead (which I make), plus a full bar for the cocktailers. By the way, the hard core, the holy disc golfers, always break out of hibernation to throw. All around the country, disc golf clubs are hosting charity tournaments called Ice Bowls during these in-between times. The slogan has always been No Wimps, No Whiners.

We hosted one at the farm a couple of weeks ago. Appropriately, it snowed 4 inches, atmospherically, not stormily. But the big one for our club, Skylands, is this weekend at Buzzy’s, Greenwood Lake. The worse the weather, the more excited the local golfers seem to become. And it’s been so frozen that some of the holes will be moved onto the ice. It will be a true Ice Bowl.

The brain never stops however, and mine recently forced me to go to confession…

“Forgive me Father for I have sinned…maybe. It’s been a looong time since my last confession.

"I was almost home, an hour trip back from the farm. Stopped at my last traffic light a woman was waiving at my passenger window. I rolled it down.

Can you give me a ride, she asked with an accent I couldn’t quite place. Where do you want to go? Jersey City. I was tired, I wasn’t going to drive to Jersey City and back. Local yeah, I would have given her a ride, but Jersey City, hour and a half round trip minimum.

I’m sorry, I live right here, I’m almost home. Are you waiting for a bus? Yes, she said, but it’s not coming. Can you give me help?

The light changed, I said sorry, and pulled away.

The situation nagged at me. I had been asked for help and I had not furnished any. I could have at least got her an Uber – my good deed for the day…or week. On the other hand, what if it was a scam? What if the woman had evil intent?

 Is there anything else, asked the priest? I spent too much time on Facebook.

 Anything else? I missed some easy putts at disc golf.

 Anything else? Yes Father, I have witnessed our government murder its own people and I have done nothing. I have witnessed our government lie repeatedly and make enemies of our allies and its own people and I have done nothing.

Be careful, said the priest. Stay away from the extremeties. Actions, in thought or deed, provoke reactions. But you are not alone, and I agree, when the people fear the government, there is tyranny. When the government fear the people there is democracy.

Go my son. Three Bud Lights and a shot of Jaeger, said the priest. And I grant you two mulligans.